


Common Places

by Lwoorl



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Super Sons (Comics), Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Grown up jon, Light Angst, light fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 09:07:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18825562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lwoorl/pseuds/Lwoorl
Summary: Jon tells Damian what happened while he was in space.





	Common Places

**Author's Note:**

> Listen I just have a lot of feelings about adult Jon, ok? Ok.

“I'm taller.” 

“I'm ol-” Damian bites his lips, suddenly aware that, no, he isn't the older one. “...Tt.” 

He can feel Jon tensing next to him as he, too, realizes they won't be able to use that joke anymore. Just another thing that changed, he supposes. They've been finding a lot of those, lately... Damian still isn't sure about what the right way to react when that happens is. 

“I'm taller  _ and  _ older.” Jon proclaims, wearing a smug expression, effectively breaking the tension that formed in the room just now. Damian punches him on the shoulder.

“Well, I'm smarter.” He replies, dutifully joining the mandatory teasing. Jon rolls his eyes.

“Yes, yes, teacher D, whatever you say.” 

Damian smiles, openly and easily, as his eyes travel through the coffee table. Tea, cookies, pencil, tea. He's supposed to be helping Jon to get his GED, but somehow it feels more like a playdate than a study session. In a way, it kind of is. “Did you finish with that yet?” He asks, pointing at the blank paper in Jon's hand, the unresolved integrals the only thing in it. The (now) older boy lets his head loll over the back of the couch and groans. 

“Stop lazing around and get to work.” Damian scolds, hitting him with a book on the back of the head, hard enough it would hurt for most humans, but, given that his friend is invulnerable, Jon just lazily rolls his head towards him and pouts. 

“Meanie.”’

“Airhead.”

“Shrimp.” 

“Raccon.” 

“That doesn't even make sense!”

“Shut up and get to work.” He hits him again. Jon shows him his tongue, but otherwise starts writing something down.

“Here, done.” He says after a couple of seconds, handing over the exercises. Damian goes over them, circling the mistakes with the red marker he keeps between his fingers. 

“You're trying to go with the exponential first, again.” He explains as he hands it over. “Remember LIATE? It's literally the last path you should take, your super braining won't help you if you keep sabotaging yourself.”

“Braining is not a word.” Jon frowns as he skims over the paper “Will this even go in the exam?”

“It’s problem solving and logical reasoning.” Damian shrugs “I can't think of a better way than solving integers to practice for that.” 

“So it  _ won't _ go in the exam?” 

“Shut up and work.”

“Yes, yes.” Jon holds the paper in front of his face and passes his eyes over it, Damian  _ thinks _ he's actually reading it, although it's hard to know for sure. “After this can we move to the reading part? I haven't read anything in forever. I kind of want to.”

“Didn't they have books in space?”

“Uh, I did some reading in grandpa's ship.” Jon starts to say, pushing the pencil against his lips, making him look stupid. “But ever since the vulcano I haven't read anything other than, say, traffic signs and news articles. I have been meaning to start Treasure Island, but I keep postponing it for some reason.”

“...The  _ volcano?” _ Damian's eyebrows knit, not knowing what his friend is talking about. At that Jon stops playing with his face and turns towards him, his eyes very open like when he just came back from his little space adventure.

“You don't know what I did in those six years.” It's not a question, just a statement, and while it's not accusatory, barely embedded with a bit of surprise at the edges, Damian still has to turn his face away. 

“You don't speak about that.” He offers as a way of answer, focusing on a portrait on the far away wall rather than looking at him. He can feel Jon's eyes burning on the side of his head and not for the first time he wonders if he subconsciously keeps a fraction of his heat vision active when not using it.

“Are you telling me Batman doesn't keep a two hundred pages archive about the whole thing?” 

“I haven't read it.” He hopes the admission doesn't make Jon think he doesn't care about him, that he doesn't want to know, because he sure as hell does. He would tell him this, but he's too proud to truthfully say  _ 'I wanted you to tell me’ _

“You want to know?” Jon leaves the paper and pencil on the table, the math problems long forgotten. Damian risks glancing at him. He doesn't look angry or sad or anything really, just a perfect neutral expression. When their eyes meet he smiles without putting any real joy into it and Damian decides to take it as encouragement.

“I have to admit I'm a little curious.” It comes out easy, casually, like it's no big deal.

“Ok. So… You really haven't heard anything?” 

“I know you left to train with your grandfather.” He starts to list. “I know it wasn't supposed to take that long. I know your mom left with you but then decided to come back at some point.” He shrugs. “That's it. As I said, I really don't know.” 

“I guess I will start from the very beginning then.” Damian nods, and with that Jon starts his retelling. 

He talks about traveling through space with a crazy man, he talks about meaningless speeches about fate without any real weight to them, he talks about tiptoeing around his grandfather,  looking for a way to go back home, afraid of what could happen if he makes him angry. It irks Damian's back. He can picture it all too well, Jon would put a happy face and nod at everything the old man said, secretly looking how to come back. All the way terrified he would get caught and the only guide he's got would leave him in the middle of nowhere to fed by himself. Jon glosses over the whole ordeal, barely stopping to talk about some cool planet or some great adventure he had, and the fact he's taking time to add good thing into it while avoiding talking too much about the bad parts tells Damian he's hearing a sanitized version of the story, which makes it worse. 

By the time they get to the wormhole Damian's biting his tongue and gripping onto the couch hard enough the tips of his fingers hurt. Then Jon starts to describe what came after, making dramatic gestures and cryptic descriptions like he's telling a story in front of a campfire, building up to some kind of revelation, using sentences like “Then I found a group of familiar faces” and “A man with an U on his chest.” but Damian knows what he's talking about before his friend gets to the grand reveal.

“The Crime Syndicate.” He interrupts.

Jon pauses, his hands frozen mid air where they were mimiquin a lazo. Damian sees the exact moment his storyteller persona breaks down, turning towards him with these very blue, very open eyes. 

“You know them?” 

He sounds… Weird. Damian doesn't like it. “When we thought my brother was dead, they were the ones who attacked him.” He explains, matter of fact. “Don't you remember?” 

Jon's face goes really white, really fast. He blinks, puts a hand on the back of his neck and looks away. “I… No, I forgot.” 

The room feels cold all of the sudden, he doesn't like it. “...Well. Anyway. What happened then?” 

“Right.” Jon bites his lips. His face still hasn't regained color. “So, the evil version of my dad put me in a prison in a volcano, I broke out and later fought the evil version of my mom, and then I found my grandpa and I came back here. And, that was that.” 

Damian raises an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything. It's concerning, the way he rushed to the end just now. It makes it sound like it all happened in a day, even though he knows for sure there were at least a couple of years left of the story for Jon's age to make sense. 

He mentioned being held in the volcano earlier, didn't he? _ ,  _ not the wormhole, not separating from his grandfather, not even the alternative earth.  _ ‘Ever since the volcano.’ _ It didn't give the impression of an inconsequential detail in his adventure, one that one can skip and leave like an easter egg. Rather, he made it sound like one of these important points in one's life someone can point at as a reference. So, how long? Weeks? Months?  _ More? _

Why is he deciding to stop now with the story? Heavily censured and modified as it was, he still talked about everything before that point, still made stupid gestures of punching or flying and still gave the characters silly sounding voices. 

Is it because realizing Damian knew about the crime syndicate beforehand? What, does he think he's going to start crying like a baby or something? Does he think Damian's that weak?

Jon's still visibly upset, and if Damian had any ounce of diplomacy inside him he would let it go, make a mental note to check his father's archives later for more details and retake the study session. But, because he doesn't, he instead decides to do the verbal equivalent of a headbutt.

“Why you don't want to talk about it?” 

“What do you mean?” Jon asks, his face open in a way that makes Damian feel bad about even questioning him, as if he was hitting a puppy. He asks again anyway.

“Just now, you rushed right to the end. Why is that?” 

“I didn't…” He stops, and suddenly his face closes, it goes back to that neutral expression from earlier that makes him unlesy. “It's my story anyway, shouldn't I be allowed to tell it however I want? So what if I want to rush to the end, what's the harm in that?” 

“Well, nothing but.” Damian crosses his arms in front of his chest, not sure what to answer to that. “I was just curious. You… _ ” 'Do you think I'm a weak child that will start crying at the mere mention of the crime syndicate? Do you think I'm a baby? Just because they tried to kill my brother doesn't mean I'm afraid of them. Who gave you the right?’ _ “Is it because you believe I will react badly, or something?” 

“I don't.” Jon looks down. It takes a second, and then his face falls into a grimace as he looks up again. “...You know what? Yes, yes I do.” 

“I'm not going to!-” He starts to exclaim, already standing up, because how  _ dares he think- _

“You already are!” Jon pushes Damian back into the couch, it only takes one finger against his chest. “You have been like-  _ This!”  _ He gestures towards him “The whole time I was telling the story! This, this angry!”

“Of course I'm angry! After what happened to you-”

_ “I don't want you to!”  _

It comes of as a scream, a real one. It rumbles through the house and makes Titus come running, ready to fight the threat. Both of them look at the dog, as he barks uselessly for five minutes before calming down and walking away. Jon sighs, and falls back into the couch.

“I don't want you to be angry. I don't. I appreciate it, I do, but I'm tired of everyone being just  _ so  _ mad at what happened to me. I just want to be able to talk about it without everyone's hearts going off the handle, ok? Do I have the right to it?”

“I… Suppose I was a bit angry at the story.” He admits, having calmed down his temper now that he knows Jon isn't so worried about him been afraid so much as… Well, this. He looks at his hands, where the tips of his fingers still sting a bit from holding the leader couch so strongly.

“No shit.” He snorts. It's still weird to hear him swear. “It's just… It's just, I feel like I can't say the word 'space’ without everyone around me having a collective heart attack, ok? And, ok, it was bad! I get it! But it still happened, I should be allowed to joke about nega-mom's clothes and nega-dad's bad stories and grandpa's stupid face without my parents flinching! I mean, just look at you!”

“Me?”

“Yes! You talk about growing up with the league _ all the time!  _ You say stuff like 'that time I died’ and 'When I was stabbed’ and make up stupid imaginary trainings to gloat about and no one blinks an eye!”

“I don't make up-!”

“For Rao's sake Dami, I know you make up half of that stuff! I can hear your  _ heart!  _ I just don't tell you when I know you're lying because it seems impolite, training to learn how to survive without eating my ass!” 

Damian shuts up at that. He- So maybe he did exaggerate a bit in his stories but he didn't- It wasn't- God he can feel his face heating up at being caught like that.

“I also should be able to do that.” Jon continues, not paying attention to Damian's red face. Although at least he's stopped yelling. “Just… I should be able to talk about it like it's nothing, and- I'm the one 'traumatized’ right?” He says, making actual quotes with his fingers around the word. “So you should be the ones being all careful about what you say around me,  _ not that I want you to, _ but then why am I the one who has to worry about not alarming everyone? Why do you all seem more 'traumatized’ than me?” He sighs, the last bits of his strength slipping away as he lets his head hang from the armchair. “I just want to make up silly stories and use it as stupid pick up lines without my friend's heart fucking  _ jumping  _ if I mention some stupid evil doppelgangers.”

“I'm… Sorry.” Damian mutters, not knowing what else to say. Jon doesn't seem happy with the apology though, he winces and shakes his head.

“Nah, leave it, I'm just blowing stress here.” He huffs “I can't ask people to lie to me when I have super hearing and it's not like I can control their feelings about anything, so. Honestly what do I even want people to do about it? For them to control their  _ internal organs?”  _

They both fall silent after that. Today they were supposed to tell stupid jokes and  _ maybe  _ study, how did they end in this kind of conversation?

“What pick up lines have you thought of?” Damian asks, like it's the only logical progression of topics.

“I- What?” 

“You said you wanted to use your space adventure for pick up lines, have you thought of any?”

“I, Hm.” Jon puts two fingers on his chin as he thinks. “Your eyes are brighter than the stars.”

“That's so generic, you went to space for that? Really? Do I need a space license for using that one?”

“Well, what else do you propose?”

“Hmmm… Of all the Earths in the multiverse I would pick the one with you anyday.”

“I only know one other earth though, and it was a dumpster fire. I would pick any earth over that one.”

“They don't need to know that. Your turn.”

“Uh, you're more attractive than a black hole?”

“You mean wormhole.”

“It's the same thing.”

“They're _ really _ different.”

“You're more attractive than a wormhole!”

“Lame!”

“Are you a pink lantern? Because-”

“Oh my God that's  _ so  _ lame!”

“You didn't even let me finish!”

“With an opening like that? I don't need to.”

“Are you a star? Because I feel like orbiting around you.”

“Still bad!”

“Are you a volcano? Because you're really hot!”

“Rejected!”

“I feel like crash landing when-”

“No!”

“The moon is-”

“Restriction order!”

“If you were a spaceship-”

“God, you'll die single.” Damian laughs. Jon's able to muster a frown for a total of 0.5 seconds before joining in. 

“Whatever.” Jon shrugs “I will just speak gibberish and say it's an alien language, girls think that's hot, right? They love when people speak French in movies.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.”

“You mean a  _ terrific _ idea.”

“I most certainly do not.”

“Spug glark kek hon!”

“What?”

“It's an alien language!”

“No, it isn't!” 

“Prove it!”

“Why am I even friends with you?” He punches Jon on the shoulder. Hard. They're both grinning like idiots. 

“Because you love my  _ amazing _ pick up lines.”

“Oh yeah, they're amazingly horrible.” 

“They're not!”

“They are!” Another punch. “Shut up and get to work, space boy.” He says as he hands him the paper with the math problems. Jon makes a whining sound. 

“I didn't go to space for this.”

“No, you went to space to say bad pick up lines, apparently.”

“Mean!”

“Dumb!”

“Short!”

“Stop complaining and get to work!”

“Yes, yes.” Jon rolls his eyes, but gets back to work anyway. “Just promise we pass to the reading exercises after I get this right.”

“Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please remember to leave a comment!!!! 💕💕💕 It means a lot!!!!! 💕💕💕


End file.
